


and I, too, am in Arcadia.

by PeachGO3



Category: Star Trek: Picard
Genre: Aging, Episode: s01e10 Et in Arcadia Ego Part 2, Fluff, I had a strong impulse to type this down so..., Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:41:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23411065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeachGO3/pseuds/PeachGO3
Summary: Spoilers for the finale of Star Trek: Picard Season I. Written from Q’s perspective and later from Jean-Luc’s.
Relationships: Jean-Luc Picard/Q
Comments: 10
Kudos: 47





	and I, too, am in Arcadia.

Q’s breath hitched when the pain kicked in. In fact, his whole existence hitched, shuddered. Human brain abnormality twisting and finally overcoming the body’s weak defense mechanisms. So, it was finally happening: Jean-Luc Picard was about to meet his mortal fate.

Q sighed. He wasn’t surprised by the situation, in fact he had been patiently waiting for it. He had known about it, of course. He had never stopped watching over his favorite human bore. He knew that Picard was ill, terminally, which was a strange concept in and of itself for a Q, but he also knew that, when he had come to pay planet Earth a visit, Picard had been appalled by his casual offer of immortality and eternal company. He also did not want Q to touch his brain to heal it.

_“I don’t want any of it, Q! I want you to get lost!”_

Picard, despite his proclivity for grand speeches and theater, had never liked dramatic decisions when it came to his own person, although he constantly had to make them.

And now, here they were.

Q hovered over a dying Picard, who held his head in an effort to ease the pain and keep functioning. Needless to say it wasn’t working, but Q had little left for Picard other than a strange fascination and sadness. Fascination because watching a creature face their mortality is always strange and novel to a Q, somewhat outlandish if you will; and sadness because he knew that Picard wasn’t finished yet.

Q had gotten accustomed to various cultures’ concepts of ‘ticking clocks’ that describe a mortal’s lifespan, but he felt that somehow Picard’s clock hasn’t stopped ticking yet, despite knowing that this was the inevitable moment the illness had been leading up to ever since it had started growing.

Maybe it was just wishful thinking?

Eternity _had_ been an option for Picard, an option that not many mortals were given by the Q. Together forever, sitting back and laughing about the universe and its curiosities; exploring and feeling it in ways that humans couldn’t even _dream_ of. Living forever, maybe even growing to become non-linear. To become like them. Become one.

Q snapped back into reality when he felt Picard’s consciousness drip out of his plain of the universe. It _was_ happening, but Q was overcharged. His body tingling nervously, he hovered over the dying human, just as Picard’s friends did. Only Q was far, far away.

He tilted his head, not knowing what to do, and frowned deeply as he eyed the body collapsing, the breath stopping, the eyes closing, and felt as though watching a candle burn out. Well, more like a bright, warm fire.

‘You idiot,’ he murmured. ‘I was always there, right at your fingertips, and you knew it.’ Q extended two gloved hands to levitate the tiny body. Feeling Picard fade away when he had been assimilated by the Borg had been similar, but it wasn’t the same. Now there wasn’t a free part of his human soul that hammered against metallic walls, crying and begging to be freed. It also wasn’t like that one time where Picard had been shot through the heart, holding onto his life _for dear life_ and regretting the way he had lived it. Now there was just… nothing.

Q scrutinized the tiny, peaceful soul slowly fading between his fingers. Curious. He tried to follow where it was going but couldn’t. The paths were locked away from him, which filled Q with horror as much as it calmed him, because it was oddly reassuring: If even a Q could not follow, that meant Jean-Luc was safe now, didn’t it?

Affectionately, he let Picard sink down again. ‘Good night,’ he said, and added lovingly, ‘My friend’.

But of course, the mortals couldn’t give him a break.

“If you put him into that, he’s gonna be immortal,” Q reasoned with theatrical gestures the humans and androids weren’t able to see. But even knowing he was imperceptible to them did not stop Q from pouring out his concerns: “He’s gonna hate you _so_ much,” he said with a sarcastic smile, not exactly knowing why he cared so much. “It’s the one thing he dreaded the most – _eternity_! You have no idea what he’s going to say to you, oh, no. Besides, you don’t want him that long anyway, do you? I know I do, but _you_? Questionable.”

He listened to nonsensical human lectures (that totally ignored him, naturally) and stared down the hermit android scientist. Q frowned. “I liked your brothers better,” he commented and then hurried over to Picard’s body lying in that pipe. Nothing more but a shell without the fire inside of it; it was weird to think of this as ‘Picard’. No, ‘Picard’ was gone.

They could have been together. Forever.

Sighing, Q reconciled himself to the reality that was about to come. “Listen,” he said, feeling dumb as soon as he spoke because there was nothing left that could hear him. Or was there? Q spoke louder, pouring these words into every corner of the universe, stretching out to the far ends of every dimension: ‘I know you can hear me, you shrimp, so – please do. Your eternity is my greatest wish and your greatest fear, and so, in my endless grace and mercy, I’ll spare you from it. I know that you don’t want it, and…’ He faltered. ‘And I know I don’t want it if you won’t spend it with me.’

He swallowed, surprised by himself. ‘So, there’s that,’ he murmured and snapped his fingers.

* * *

Jean-Luc got up to say good-night to everyone. Seven of Nine nodded at him with a blissful smile, and Rios assured him that he could sleep now, for the crew would stay awake and keep La Sirena going. “Good night, JL,” Raffi said with a face as though she still needed to accept the reality that she could still talk to him, which Jean-Luc couldn’t hold against her, really.

He walked downstairs to his cabin, yawning. Amazing, if you thought about it – a synthetic body yawning and tiring. They had assured him there weren’t any superpowers involved, yet walking down the stairs felt easier now. Jean-Luc shook his head in disbelief and smiled. Happily, he found that smiling still felt exactly the same as before, wrinkles on his cheek and lips thinning and all.

However, that smile instantly froze when the doors to his cabin swished open and revealed someone lying on his bed lasciviously, in a Starfleet uniform that Jean-Luc realized far too late was from around twenty-five years ago – the view and stardust scent were just too familiar.

“Q?” he asked, staring into a face that, surprisingly, looked just as puzzled as his probably looked. Q’s features hardened into a frown. “That’s how old you look now? Good Lord,” he worried.

Ere Jean-Luc could answer, a bright light turned Q into a man about his age. It was the same body, visibly, still radiating outer space, and still lying in the same seductive position, but the hair was all-white, even the beard, and the clothes had changed as well. “A zip fastener?” Jean-Luc asked, overcoming the initial surprise. “Really?”

“What do you mean, ‘really’?” Q repeated – even his voice sounded older. Softer. “Have you looked into a mirror today? You don’t look any better.” He frowned. “Or younger.”

“Mock me all you like,” Jean-Luc said and turned around to get himself a glass of water. Or possibly something stronger, he hadn’t made up his mind yet. Some things don’t ever change, and apparently Q was a constant in his life.

“I am not mocking you,” he heard Q say. “Believe it or not, mon Capitaine, your new appearance needs a bit getting used to.”

Right, Q probably saw some android creature, like Geordi La Forge had seen Data. Jean-Luc said, “Interesting that the golem looks like my old self to everyone else, but it’s no wonder you would look past that.”

“What – that’s not what I meant,” Q said, sounding genuinely confused. “Yes, yes, that whole thing about Admiral Jean-Luc Picard, retired, being resurrected from the dead, transferred into a synthetic body, yes, yes – but actually, I was talking about your… wrinkles, in your face. And those, um, liver spots. You haven’t had this many before.”

Jean-Luc involuntarily smiled at the replicator. “I see. That’s how long we haven’t seen each other?” he asked.

“Quite so. Untenable, right?”

“Hm.”

Leaning against the replicator, Jean-Luc turned around to look at Q, getting used to his now old and wrinkly look. But there was still that cosmos sparkle in those two eyes, still that mouth twitching from excitement. And the kind smile of warm stardust particles. There was no alienation, no cosmic horror, just warmth. Intimacy, somehow. “What do you want?” Jean-Luc asked softly, the everlasting question. But he felt oddly un-antagonistic against the alien.

“Why, I wanted to visit an old friend,” Q said indignantly.

“To mock him,” Jean-Luc said again, making Q frown. “No. No! It’s always the same with you, I can’t even start a genuine conversation because you are so hung up on me changing the appearance of my human body once I laid my eyes on yours,” he complained in that very characteristic manner of his.

“Astounding,” Jean-Luc teased in good will. “I could’ve sworn you have watched me age all along.”

“Believe it or not, but as a matter of fact,” Q said with a blank expression, “I have.”

Face hardening, Jean-Luc shifted on his legs.

“But if you would make just a little bit more use of that new brain of yours, you would understand that I – obviously, roaming the universe as a Q – haven’t looked at you with _human_ eyes that can actually notice the changes of your outer appearance, your _human_ skin. I’m not that incremental.” Q swallowed and continued a bit more hesitantly than before, “I was watching what you would probably call ‘soul’. And that essence hasn’t changed much in the past quarter century. It’s gotten wiser, for human standards at least, a bit warmer-”

“Wait,” Jean-Luc interrupted, making Q look up again. Were there curls in his white hair? Jean-Luc closed his eyes to concentrate. “You seriously have been spying on me this whole time?” he asked.

“Oh, I would call it ‘checking in on an old friend’, but make of it what you will.”

“Unbelievable,” Jean-Luc uttered, Enterprise flashbacks cutting through his mind. “And now you come here to harass this ship and this crew yet again?” He frowned at the fleece jacket with its ridiculously old-fashioned zipper. “You look like a grandpa!”

“Grandpa yourself!” Q called back and finally sat up straight, only to reveal that he had been hiding a bouquet of red roses on the bed for the whole time. Jean-Luc faltered. Q noticed it and murmured, “Yeah, those were for you. Guess you don’t want them.” With a snap, they disappeared, and Jean-Luc instantly wanted them to return. Roses? When was the last time someone had gifted him actual roses?

“There,” Q noticed. “That’s another thing I watched growing over the years.” He smiled. “That voracious, selfish, dreamy yearning of yours. It makes you glow, you know that? Not to make you too self-aware, my dear, but…”

Jean-Luc shut his mouth, shoulder slopping down as his gaze met two old but oh so familiar cosmos eyes. His chest tightened at the view.

“Don’t you ever believe,” Q said in a vaguely warning tone, “that when you looked upwards into the night sky, from your little, cozy Earth vineyard, that I didn’t hear you.” He smiled again, knowing how right he was. “I heard your yearning. Every single time.” He grimaced. “Never knew you were a screamer, Jean-Luc.”

All right. Okay. So, that’s how it was – but he won’t play along. “Then you also know,” Jean-Luc said softly and stepped closer, albeit carefully, “that I _had_ to get out here again.”

“Yes,” Q said, “but don’t even try to fool me. It wasn’t only for the android girl. That was one reason to justify the means, wasn’t it?”

Jean-Luc sighed as he listened to La Sirena softly vibrating in the warp tunnel. “You’re probably right.”

For a few moments, they smiled at each other and shared their familiar company. They could read each other like books, Jean-Luc thought, finding that he was grateful to Q for not touching the brain anomaly and letting it take its natural cause. Q did not have a hand in any of this, Jean-Luc thought as he sat down on the edge of the bed, because Q would’ve never created a _mortal_ golem for him to inhabit. He had respected Jean-Luc’s wish to stay out of this. And now he found that – he had missed the self-righteous alien.

“I,” Jean-Luc began as they sat far too closely side-by-side, “would love to talk to you more, I really do.”

Q smiled warmly. It felt affectionate inside, but also physically _warm_ , like rays of sunlight – just like the old times, when Jean-Luc would get a little bit too close to this humanoid space accumulation and feel its radiation on his skin. He softly continued, “But, as you can see, I am quite tired and in need of sleep.”

Q looked confused for a moment, and then disgusted. “Ahh, right, ‘sleep’. That nasty thing you mortals can’t go without. Life oozing out of your bodies to recharge.” He shook. “Dreadful.”

“It’s not that dramatic,” Jean-Luc smiled.

“It never is. They couldn’t have excluded that feature from your new body?”

Jean-Luc chuckled. “What I meant to say was, maybe you could come again later. We humans need our sleep, especially when we’re very young, or very old. However, I do think there is much to talk about. With the roses and such.”

“Yes, right,” Q said quickly and straightened up, swallowing and avoiding Jean-Luc’s eyes as though he was embarrassed. How mundane – and vulnerable, and sweet, Jean-Luc thought. “I am counting on you to be back,” he said softly.

“Oh,” Q answered casually, “that’s a first. But sure, I’ll be back. You can’t get rid of me.” His smirk returned as he purred, “I even am in Arcadia, as they say.”

“They meant Death, not a Q,” Jean-Luc said.

“Did they?” Q asked, meeting his eyes again, locking. Pouty lips parted. Creases beneath his eyes, beside them, above them. Jean-Luc softened. “Good night, Q,” he said as though to whisper into the starry sky.

Q’s mouth twitched and formed a genuine smile. “See you, old man,” he said, wrinkles deep and white curls wild. In a flash of warm light, he was gone, leaving behind a single rose blossom in Jean-Luc’s hands. It smelled of deep space trenches as well as shared wine on sunlit verandas.

**Author's Note:**

> I just want an old John de Lancie to play Q… is that too much to ask… Also I want to write like a million other things, but even quarantine and home office only let me finish this short one ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Anyway thank you for reading & stay safe!! ♡


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